


Paper Blossoms

by She_Who_Only_Knows_War



Series: Paper Blossoms [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: But It's Really Just Implied, Multi, Obvious Sakura, Reckless Konan, Sakura Gets Captured Cliche, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6542740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Who_Only_Knows_War/pseuds/She_Who_Only_Knows_War
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The world needs more of these two. If anyone can recommend some good Sakura/Konan fiction, I would definitely love that.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Paper Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> The world needs more of these two. If anyone can recommend some good Sakura/Konan fiction, I would definitely love that.

"Does it always rain like this?" She's perched in the window, green eyes still bright - brighter even - in contrast to the dreary sky. Pink hair mussed from sparring with one of the men. And while she obviously appreciates their physiques, Konan has noticed that there's no desire in those shimmering green eyes.

"Some days are drier than others." A not answer is still enough of an answer. Konan doesn't offer Sakura any sort of protection from the weather. She can't allow the younger woman any assistance. The chances of Sakura deciding escape is an option would be too high, even after the six months the Medic has spent with them.

So Sakura sits, bare feet tucked under herself. Her shorts and top once belonged to Konan but are tailored to fit just right.

The water-resistant mats soften the _click, click, click_ ing of Konan's heels as she steps to the sill, next to the pink-haired woman.

Sakura shifts so Konan can sit beside her. The blue-haired woman glances at the young konoichi again. Realizes that there may be a reason Sakura hasn't reacted like many of the konoichi and civilians the Akatsuki has met.

It is definitely not fear. Certainly not infatuation with any of these attractive, virile men.

Their knees brush, jade green meets honey brown and Konan wonders just how difficult it's going to be when Sakura decides to turn on them. 

Sakura shifts, leans closer. And Konan throws caution to the wind. Her fingers glide, feather-light, up Sakura's wrist and arm.

The Godaime's Apprentice leans in, the Origami Specialist's simple touch having emboldened her. Mouths mold together, Sakura's scent washes over the blue-haired woman. It's amazing to Konan how the Medic still manages to keep her own scent, especially with the constant rotation of soaps and clothes.

The way she touches Konan, as though she might tear the sheafs of paper plastered to Konan's skin like subtle armour, warms the older konoichi in a way she hasn't felt since she and Nagato had experimented those prolonged, winter months so very long ago.

It was a different time.

Konan had realized she wasn't totally opposed to being with a woman during that span. Making love in front of the fireplace with Pein's Female Path taught her more about herself than she could have possibly learned under the tutelage of her Sensei.

They part. Sakura pulls back to shyly, resolutely, look her in the face. Konan doesn't hesitate to kiss her again. Softly. Sweetly. Like a paper crane drifting on a breeze.

The pink-haired konoichi's fingers trail up and up and up, so very lightly. And they caress her arms and shoulders. But never her neck or her back. Konan appreciates the thoughtful gesture, even if she doesn't believe Sakura could kill her. Even if the younger konoichi tried.

Konan strokes her hair, smooths it down carefully. Sakura sighs against her lips. The Origami Specialist gets lost in her taste and the way she feels.

She decides worrying about what Sakura will choose can wait


End file.
